


Before the Sunrise

by imma_redshirt



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: And More Fluff, F/M, Fluff, and maybe a bit more fluff still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 11:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14283621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imma_redshirt/pseuds/imma_redshirt
Summary: Imelda is a busy woman, and is always up before sunrise.If Héctor isn't there to deter her, that is.





	Before the Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> Just some sleepy Imector because I really want these two to be happy. That’s it. 
> 
> If you can spot any mistakes, please let me know!

The first rays of sunlight fell over Imelda’s face, and she squinted at the window facing her. In an attempt to fight the dry summer air, she’d left the window open overnight, hoping to let in the occasional cool breeze. She’d also pulled the thin curtains off to the side and tied them securely so they didn’t fall over the window while she and Héctor slept, and there they fluttered, bordering the window that was open to the rising sun and a blanket of dark, slow moving storm clouds.

It was the first storm of the season, moving in from over the horizon, and it was early. The previous year had seen a consistently dry summer, so this was a good sign. They needed the water.

With the storm came a breeze that was cooler than any Imelda had felt in a while, leaving goosebumps along the skin of her bare shoulder. With a shiver, she pulled the cloth of her nightgown over her shoulder, and realized that she wasn’t in Héctor’s arms.

They’d fallen asleep together, Héctor pressed up against her back, his arm curled around her waist, his breath hot on her neck. The day had been busy, and the exhausted couple had fallen into bed as soon as their daughter had fallen asleep in her own room. Neither of them had had any energy for anything other than a few shared kisses and nonsense whispered into each other’s ears before sleep took them. Imelda had drifted off with Héctor pulling her close, his nose nuzzling her shoulder, his warm presence lulling her to sleep.

But now he wasn’t holding her, and she was shivering, and it simply would not do.

The sun was rising, and it was definitely time to get out of bed and start the day, but she needed her husband’s arms around her for a few precious minutes. Then, she swore, she would rise. 

With another shiver, she shifted around in bed, turned on her side to wiggle into Héctor’s arms--and froze.

Beside her, Héctor was deep asleep, mouth slightly agape with a trail of dried drool at the corner of his lips, and in his arms was their small daughter, snuggled securely against him, her sleepy face nearly a mirror image of her father’s.

Imelda covered her smile with one hand, holding back a laugh. Had she been an artist, she would have drawn the twin expressions on her husband and daughter’s faces. Even the little furrow in their brows was the same.

Well, this was one reason for his absence next to her that she would accept. Coco had been sneaking into their room in the middle of the night many times since they had given her her own room, so Imelda wasn’t surprised to find her daughter wedged between them. Gently, she smoothed a lock of hair from Coco’s cheek and tucked it behind her ear. She would have to redo her braids after breakfast.

With a twitch, Héctor snored, and Coco’s face scrunched as if she would wake up, but they both remained asleep. Imelda chuckled lightly to herself. 

She was willing to sacrifice her own time with Héctor to let this continue as long as possible. It was time for her to get up, then.

Slowly, she pulled the thin sheet off and sat up, yawning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She let one leg slip off the bed when a hand suddenly clasped her wrist.

“‘Melda,” came her husband’s sleepy voice. “A dónde vas?”

“Where do you think?” Imelda said, looking over at Héctor’s one open eye. “Someone has to make breakfast.”

“Ay, let Felipe and Oscar take care of it,” Héctor said. He tugged at her wrist lightly. “Lie down, amor.”

She had a lot to do. So did he. They always did so early in the week, and usually they were both up by now. 

But sometimes, Héctor managed to convince her to stay in bed even after sunrise. He had his ways of keeping her under the covers and in his arms, long after she intended to get out of bed. Sometimes she was annoyed, and sometimes she gave in easily because she wanted to, and often she ended up not minding in the least.

“Héctor,” she began, only half intending to turn him down.

“Si, mi vida?” Héctor said, raising his head and pulling her hand to his lips.

Imelda rolled her eyes, but let him kiss the back of her hand. “ _Héctor--_ ”

At that moment, Coco sat up and blinked sleepily at her mother. “Mamá? A dónde vas?”

“Yes, Imelda, adónde vas?” Héctor repeated, lowering Imelda’s hand. “Why do you want to leave us?”

Imelda tsked. “Don’t say that, I’m not leaving you. Coco, Mamá has to--”

“Has to what? Cuddle her daughter? I think you’re right!” Héctor said with a grin, raising his eyebrows at Imelda’s deadpan expression. “What do you think, Coco?”

“Sí!” Coco said, now suddenly wide awake. She crawled out of Héctor’s arms and bounced into Imelda’s lap. 

“It’s going to rain,” Imelda said, automatically pulling Coco up to kiss her forehead.

As if her words had brought the rain itself, thunder sounded above them, and the sound of light rainfall came in through the window. A breeze blew, and droplets of water were carried in to land on Imelda and Coco’s exposed faces.

Coco squeaked. Héctor rolled out of bed, his gangly limbs tangled with the thin sheet he’d been curled under. He fell to the floor with a _thud_ , but was immediately on his feet and running for the window.

“Papá will save you, mija!” He said, skidding to a stop at the window and quickly pulling the window panes closed against the rain. The window clicked shut, and the rain tapped against the glass, thunder rumbling above them.

Imelda was wiping the few raindrops from Coco’s forehead as Coco laughed at Héctor, who had pretended to struggle to keep the window shut against the storm, when two arms wrapped around her from behind and pulled her and Coco down on the bed.

Héctor nudged her until she scooted forward, allowing him enough room to curl around her from behind. Coco was snuggling into her arms, warm and yawning, all excitement gone in lieu of sleep. With a defeated sigh, Imelda pressed another kiss to the top of Coco’s braided hair, not entirely disappointed in her foiled attempt to leave.

“Go back to sleep, Imelda,” Héctor said, resting his arm over both wife and daughter. “One lazy morning, por favor. You deserve it.”

They’d had more than one lazy morning in the past, and if Héctor had his way, they’d have many more in the future. Relaxing back into her husband’s arms, Imelda admitted silently to herself that she didn’t mind in the least.

With the warmth of her family around her, and the sound of rain against the window, she drifted into a light, contented sleep.

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------

In the Land of the Dead, Imelda was always up before the sun. 

She was the first of the family to rise out of bed and get ready for the day. Sometimes after waking up--only sometimes, mind you--she remained where she lay, staring at the ceiling with her hands resting lightly on the blanket that covered her. During those still, quiet moments, she thought back on her life, or tried to shake the residual emotions from some forgotten dream, or just let her thoughts wander as one does.

But she only wasted a moment with that before she was on her feet and smoothing the wrinkles from the blanket, straightening the single pillow, and dedicating every thought to the day’s activities.

By the time she had slipped into her dress, done her hair, applied her lipstick, pulled on her boots, fed Pepita, gathered the outlines for whatever new shoe she'd designed the night earlier, pulled open the curtains in the sitting room to let the growing sunlight in--by this time, a sleepy eyed Felipe and Oscar were usually shuffling into the kitchen to make breakfast, and the rest of the family could be faintly heard getting ready for the day.

She didn’t mind fast, busy mornings. She was a business owner and a mother--busy mornings were a part of life that she had adjusted to long ago. Even as a child, she’d risen with the sun with responsibilities that had to be carried out immediately. She could barely remember any other sort of morning. 

The only slow, lazy mornings she’d ever had had been part of an era of her life she’d struggled to forget. 

She didn’t have time or patience for lazy mornings anymore, anyway. While Oscar and Felipe prepared breakfast, Imelda sat at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee she’d prepared earlier, and went over the orders of the day.

And as the rest of her family moved into the kitchen for breakfast, she was already washing her used dishes, eager to head out the door.

Every morning had been the same, until Héctor was once again in her life.

It took a good year and a half before she let him into her bed. She had, in fact, invited him to bed. And where she’d expected a waggle of his brow and a teasing “Hard to resist all of this, amor,” he had instead stammered and babbled and been on the very verge of tears at the offer.

Since then, they hadn’t spent a single night apart. 

One Friday morning, she woke with the first rays of sunlight on her face, and squinted at the open glass door. Beyond the door was the balcony she and Héctor often relaxed on, sipping coffee before heading out. And beyond that, just above the colorful apartments across from their building, the sun was rising.

She gasped. 

She hadn’t woken up so late in… well, decades. 

What could have happened to have kept her from waking up?

A snore from behind startled her, and she blinked. _Oh._

Héctor’s arm curled tighter around her, and he sighed against her loose, unbraided hair, mumbling sleepily. They were both skeletons, of course, but somehow his presence against her was soft and warm, and his hold on her was a gentle strength she hadn’t known in ages. 

Though she had woken up with a start, she found that she was completely and utterly relaxed in his arms.

Sometime over night, she’d laid one hand atop of his and had twined their fingers together. She’d angled herself so they were pressed as close as two skeletons curled together could be. 

She hadn’t woken up to feel such comfort in… well, again, _decades._

Since Héctor had begun sleeping with her, they’d stuck to her early schedule. Even the first morning after their first night, they had woken up before the sun, talking, holding each other’s hand, almost as bashful as they’d been on their wedding night. 

Today was the first morning she’d slept past her usual waking hour, and she was surprised to find that she didn’t mind in the least.

With a lazy smile, she shifted and turned in bed, adjusting Héctor’s arm so it remained draped over her almost nonexistent waist. He was still asleep, mouth slightly agape, the markings on his skull bright in the soft light that fell across his cheekbones. 

Imelda carded her hands through his tousled hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

Héctor’s brown eyes blinked open, and he smiled sleepily at her. 

“Amor,” he said around a yawn. “Is it time to get up?”

“No,” Imelda said. She snuggled closer in his arms, tucking her head beneath his chin. “Sleep, Héctor. It’s still early.”

Héctor hummed drowsily, his chest rising and falling in a deep sigh. 

Confident that their family could start the day without them, Imelda shut her eyes, curled her hand against Héctor’s hip, and slipped into a light, contented sleep.


End file.
